


Angel of the Lord

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> Day 6: Angel. </i> The creature’s feathered wings wobbled, every now and again hitching in what seemed like desperate attempts at flight. “I,” they said grandly, “am an angel of the Lord.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel of the Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 6's prompt, "Angel."

The creature’s feathered wings wobbled, every now and again hitching in what seemed like desperate attempts at flight.

“I,” they said grandly, “am an angel of the Lord.”

The Doctor looked at Rose. Rose looked at the Doctor.

“I don’t think you _are,_ though,” the Doctor said, and Rose bit her knuckles to keep from laughing.

“Am too,” the false messenger of God insisted, their rotund face pulling down in indignation.

“No,” the Doctor said again. “No, I really don’t think you are. I’m fairly sure you’re just from Lavaxtrus.”

“Actually, it’s pronounced—oh. Damn.” The alien smiled weakly at the Doctor and Rose. “How’d you know that?”

“I’m no expert,” Rose cut in, “but the antennae _kind of_ gave it away.”

“The kitchen staff was complaining,” the Doctor added. “You can always trust the kitchen staff.”

The Lavaxtruan nodded sagely, their three pinkish antennae bobbing with the motion.

There was a bit of a pause.

“I suppose you couldn’t just—I don’t _know_ , you couldn’t just leave me be, could you?” they asked.

“’Fraid not. Aside from the inconspicuous appearance, you’re sucking all the electricity out of the house.”

“A person’s got to _eat,_ you know!”

“Yeah,” said Rose, “but sooner or later someone’s going to figure out that you’re not actually an angel of the Lord, and I really don’t think that’s going to go over well.”

“Didn’t even think of that. Good point, Rose,” the Doctor said cheerfully.

“But what am I supposed to _do_?” moaned the Lavaxtruan.

“Go home,” the Doctor said kindly. “There’s plenty of residue electricity floating about the Lavaxtruan atmosphere.”

“But my mate doesn’t want me,” sniffed the alien. “They said my antennae are too short.”

“They look plenty tall to me,” the Doctor told them earnestly.

“Besides,” Rose said, “I’m sure if you go back, you’ll find someone just perfect for you.”

“You think so?” their wings had pricked themselves up with the Doctor’s compliment, and they looked rather less silly now.

“I _know_ so,” Rose said, with the sort of insistence one only learned from working retail.

“Come on,” said the Doctor. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Thanks,” the Lavaxtruan said, cheeks puffing up in what may have been gratitude. “My own spacecraft sort of, you know, crashed. Into the Thames.”

“Oh, that was you?”

“Bit of operator error.” The Lavaxtruan scratched at a stray feather on their shoulder. “Still, wasn’t _all_ bad… it was good fun, pretending to be a human representation of divinity and all.”

Rose rolled her eyes. The Doctor attempted his Serious Business (No, Really) Face. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled.

“Alright, _geez…”_ they murmured, looking put upon.

A serving boy took that moment to appear around the corner, getting an eyeful of alien’s full splendor. He screamed. It was very loud and shrill.

“Now _that’s_ just unnecessary,” the Lavaxtruan grumbled from behind Rose. Then the Doctor bellowed, “RUN!” and the unlikely trio was off.

A moment or two and several wrong turns later, they finally stumbled into the small storing closet in which the TARDIS was parked.

“Perhaps,” the Lavaxtruan panted as they scuttled into the police box while attempting to avoid a falling mop, “perhaps you were right. He seemed rather displeased.”

“Bit an understatement, but yeah,” Rose said, pulling the doors shut behind her. “Doctor, get a move on!”

“I’m just about—there!” The whirring noise that had become so familiar started up, and Rose leaned back against the door with a sigh.

“Nice spacecraft,” the Lavaxtruan said appreciatively. “Very 62nd century. I like it.” Their antennae leaned vaguely toward the center console. “I don’t suppose I could stay on?”

“No!” the Doctor and Rose said in unison. They looked at each other.

“You’ll take up all my electricity,” explained the Doctor. Rose nodded emphatically.

“Are you sure? I could be your source of divine inspiration. Plus, I’m hundreds upon _hundreds_ of years old,” they preened.

Rose giggled. The Doctor nodded, “Yeah, I think we’ve got that covered. Sorry.”

The Lavaxtruan sighed. “Oh fine. Just remember, you’re the ones who turned this down.”

“We’ll remember, yeah.” The Doctor grinned at Rose. Rose grinned at the Doctor.

“Besides,” Rose said, “If we ever need you, we can _pray._ ”

The Doctor let out an obnoxiously load laugh, and the Lavaxtruan sulked. Rose would remember it as a good day.


End file.
